An Angel's Tears
by Daelan
Summary: [[Complete]] HarryxDraco. 'Can’t you hear them? He’ll kill them. They won’t know, but it’s true. He’ll hurt them. Help her. Listen, can’t you hear her? Her screams? She can’t see, I can’t see, he’s dead. Help them, help them, help them.'
1. Prologue: In Azkaban

**An Angel's Tears**

Prologue: In Azkaban

Emerald eyes glimmered slightly, peering out of the dark shadows that hid their owner. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger shifted guiltily, hiding behind Professor Dumbledore, as it were. The eyes closed, vanishing from sight. The cell might have been empty.

A hollow laugh echoed from within the cell. "What do you want?" he asked. "Come to rub it in?"

"Harry-" Ron began, unsure of what to say, what to do. How to justify his easy denunciation of his once-best friend, two years ago.

"Everyone does," Harry continued, seemingly not hearing him. "They all do. They come and they stare at me and no one believes me. But it's true, and it isn't, and they won't know. And he'll kill them. I'll kill them."

Hermione took a step back involuntarily, one hand going to her mouth as she suppressed a sob. A Dementor moved closer and she shuddered, feeling its icy coldness wash over him again.

"Can't you hear them? He'll kill them. They won't know, but it's true. He'll hurt them. Help her. Listen, can't you hear her? Her screams? She can't see, I can't see, he's dead. Help them, help them, help them. Kill me."

Dumbledore signed the paper the Dementor held out to him, frowning at it until it glided over to the cell. A low moan issued from beneath its hood, one of anger that it would be losing its favourite meal. The look in Dumbledore's eyes brooked no argument, however. With a click, the door swung open. The Dementor moved away, down the corridor, leaving the three with Harry.

"Harry? You can come out now. You're free, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "They proved you were innocent. Severus and Draco managed to uncover the truth, that it was Ms. Parkinson who killed Minerva. You're free."

There was a sound from within the cell, of cloth rustling. Harry uncoiled himself from his crouched position on the floor slowly. For the first time, the trio standing in the corridor caught sight of the boy they had condemned to Azkaban.

"Is that so?" he asked them quietly, tilting his head to the side quizzically. "I suppose I owe them, then." A ghost of a smile crossed his face, and they saw his eyes. They were not dead. Far better if they were. No, they were alight with an insane fervour, one which frightened all of them. Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder if they were doing the right thing, setting him free.

"It's good," he said simply. Long, matted black hair hung limply around his gaunt, pale face. "It has to be. I'm not mad. I'm not. Not. Human, I'm not."

Shaking with guilt and fear, Albus Dumbledore led Harry Potter, the Boy-who-Once-Lived, out to taste freedom.


	2. Chapter One: At School

Chapter One: At School

The entire school watched in silence as Harry, Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione walked down the Hall. Silver eyes gave the last three no more than a cursory glance, and then fixed themselves on Harry. Draco Malfoy half-rose from his seat, when Harry turned to look at him.

"Thank you," he said, in a perfectly normal voice. But his eyes, they were insane. Those same emerald eyes moved over to Severus Snape. "Thank you."

Whispers broke out the instant the trio vanished into the room at the far end of the Hall. Snape and Draco immediately got up and went after them.

The room was dark, and Harry was reminded of his cell in Azkaban for the briefest second. Then Dumbledore murmured a word and candles flickered alight and the shadows were banished. Harry dropped onto the floor bonelessly, refusing any of the numerous chairs around.

Ron was the first to try. "Harry, mate," he began awkwardly. "We…"

Harry turned those burning eyes to his face, and the red-head fell silent, twitching uncomfortably. The door opened, admitting the two Slytherins that had followed them.

Draco went straight to Harry, dropping to his knees beside the once-Gryffindor. No words passed between them, but unspoken comfort did. Harry shifted and allowed himself to lean against Draco, who wrapped protective arms around him. Madness closed as Harry allowed himself to sleep in his dragon's arms.

Snape, meantime, was viewing Dumbledore with no little contempt. He had always had the greatest respect for the man. But when it came to Harry, it seemed the man had made one bad judgement after another. Leaving him with his muggle relatives, believing him to be guilty…

Hermione gave a wracked sob as she saw Harry respond to Draco the way he hadn't to them. Immediately, the dark-haired boy's eyes sprang open, landing on her. A terribly anger came into them, but he didn't move. Draco felt his muscles tensing beneath him, though, and instinctively tightened his grip. Slowly, Harry relaxed.

"Leave," he instructed. "Not stay. Go, like the black-cloaks. Go away."

He didn't say any more, but watched with that intense sadness until he and Draco were alone. He eyes only softened when looking at Snape, and the Potions Master acknowledged it with a curt nod of his head.

"Take care of him, Draco," he said softly, before leaving. The door shut behind him.

Draco immediately shifted so that Harry was sitting in his lap. He supported the tired boy with his left hand, holding Harry's hand with his right. Lightly, he pressed his lips onto Harry's forehead as Harry finally, finally, gave in to the deep need for sleep.

He hadn't slept in weeks.


	3. Chapter Two: Insane Love

Chapter Two: Insane Love

            With his hair washed and cut, and having taken a bath, Harry looked almost presentable. He would still need to eat proper meals to start filling out again; he had been skinny to start with but was almost skeletal now. But nothing could dim those terrible eyes of his.

            And nothing would prevent Draco Malfoy from helping him as he struggled to regain his identity.

            The first time the reporters accosted him, his eyes had grown wide with terror, and he had clutched at Draco as a drowning man might a life-line. The blonde's eyes had gone steely, and taking Harry's arms, he had steered the frightened boy away. And afterwards, Harry had lain in Draco's arms, secure in the knowledge that the other boy would keep him safe.

            He spoke infrequently, but when he did, his madness was even more evident. Disjointed sentences, words that made no sense. They poured out of his mouth at random intervals. Hermione and Ron didn't know how to deal with the new insanity that was now Harry Potter. For the most part, they tried to avoid him. One day, they found solace in each other's arms. And then, avoiding Harry became all the more easier. It seemed to push Harry closer to the edge. Draco would never forget the day he had had to fight Harry, pin him down and keep him away from the knife that he wanted to kill himself with.

            And the reporters lapped it all up.

            Cornelius Fudge had been demoted. Indeed, he had all been kicked out of his office. It was very bad publicity for the Ministry of Magic, and for once, Rita Skeeter's sensational articles had more than a grain of truth in them. Lucius Malfoy had somehow gotten the coveted position of Minister for Magic. Draco told Harry about it, and about how his father spied with Snape for Dumbledore. About how both men were reconsidering their loyalties. Whether it should be with the one who would kill Harry, or with the one who had let him rot in Azkaban, believed him guilty of murder.

            Harry shifted and croaked out, "Voldemort."

            Somehow, Draco understood.

            No one knew why Snape and Draco had been the only ones to believe Harry. Why they had been the only ones who had worked so hard to uncover the truth. After all, the two seemed to hate him. But Harry, on the other hand, understood perfectly. Even in the midst of madness, he understood. And he reciprocated.

            His kisses were jewels that sparkled on Draco's lips for days after. The blonde never knew when he might kiss him, but he looked forward to those moments all the same. Snape, always an uncle to Draco, had agreed to help the infatuated boy.

            It was real now. Harry may not have fully understood his feelings for Draco, but they were real now, and evident. The boys were inseparable.

            When the papers found out, they had a field day over it. Was it his madness, brought on by Azkaban, that had caused him to switch sexual preferences? In truth, it wasn't. It had nothing to do with Azkaban. Harry had always been bisexual, always aware of Draco's constant, seductive presence. It was just that now, he could show it, wasn't afraid of the repercussions.

            Now he had the courage of the insane.


	4. Chapter Three: Relief

Chapter Three: Relief

Daylight brought no relief for Harry Potter. He shunned it, stayed away from it. Daylight brought the predators, the jackals, the reporters, who even now, tried to get a glimpse of the mad Boy-Who-Lived. But he remembered. And he longed.

            And so Draco helped him sneak out at night. And they flew, high over the Forbidden Forest, soaring as high as they dared go, riding tandem. Harry snuggled against Draco's chest, sitting before him on Draco's old Nimbus 2001. It was a way of forgetting, and of remembering, and Harry loved it. He loved the nights when Draco would come down to his room, hidden away from the rest of the school, and bring him out to the Quidditch Pitch. They flew as daringly as they could with two on a broom meant for one, through the scoring hoops, around the stands, over the Forest. Draco talked about the days when they had flown against each other. When he had dressed up as a Dementor to scare Harry into losing a match. Harry laughed quietly as the memories returned.

            He would have been able to scare the Dementors at Azkaban away just as well as he had managed to topple Draco over that day. But they had taken his wand away, snapped it in half. They slowed to a stop, hovering in the night air, and Draco held him as Harry explained why he didn't need his wand any longer.

            After he had explained, Draco flew down, and they landed on the dewy grass of the flying lesson grounds. Their landing was perhaps a little shaky, but on the whole good, considering what Draco had just heard. Once safely on the ground, they walked around together for a while, dark head bent to pale, explaining things better left unexplained. And so Draco learnt more about the boy to whom he had given his heart.

            No one knew this about him. Harry himself didn't know. But just as he had heard more and more of his parent's deaths, every time he was exposed to a Dementor, so it was that how far back he heard things increased. And soon, nearing the end of his two-year imprisonment, he had learnt the truth about himself.

            Draco's legs finally gave out and he sat down on the ground, hard. "Show me," he whispered. "Show me."

            Harry held out his hand, palm up, and it started glowing a soft silver. "Black," he said, explaining so much in a single word. Draco shivered. A single rose appeared on Harry's outstretched palm, and he closed his fingers around it, offering it to Draco. The other boy took it without hesitation, inhaling its sweet fragrance. Harry touched the stem, trimming it with magic, and tucked it behind Draco's left ear. "Beautiful," he murmured. Draco blushed softly.

            And then he leant forward and kissed Draco.


	5. Chapter Four: Souls Together

Chapter Four: Souls Together

            Harry would never forget the day Draco was made to leave. The blonde pleaded with Dumbledore, but the old man was adamant. No one could stay in Hogwarts for the summer holidays. Except Harry, of course, but only because his relatives could not be expected to take in an insane person.

            Draco had railed against that. He told them over and over that Harry wasn't insane. That he was getting better. That he could help Harry get better. But they refused to listen, and, after a tearless farewell, Draco was sent home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry watched him go with dry eyes, and then, wordlessly, spun on his heel and left without waiting for the professors.

            He fell into a kind of stupor after that. He refused to eat, and did not seem to get any sleep. His eyes were always open, wide and vacant. But for all that, he was fine. He lost no weight, and did not seem to suffer any ill-effects.

            Harry slept with Draco that night, the blonde holding him close. They whispered to each other, laughing over the foolishness of the professors. Who could separate them? With Harry's powers, and Draco's strength, nothing could keep them apart. They fell asleep with a gentle, chaste kiss, together in Draco's bed.

            Harry remained in his motionless stupor until Draco came back. That was sooner than expected. Worried about what could be causing this, the professors sent for Draco. The Slytherin was close to Harry, and everyone knew that.

            As soon as Draco laid eyes on Harry, he went over and took the ebon-haired boy's hands. "Go on," he said softly, yet loudly enough for the spectators to hear. The professors and reporters who had sneaked in held their breaths.

            Harry stirred, and life came back into his eyes. He looked at Draco and smiled. "I knew," he said simply, before gathering the blonde into a sweet embrace. Cameras flashed simultaneously, but for once, neither young man cared. Arms wrapped around each other, they went out onto the Quidditch Pitch to sit and talk. Harry thought that Draco's house was absolutely beautiful, even if his father didn't believe him until they had proved it. But Harry quite liked Lucius Malfoy now. Harry rested his head on Draco's chest as they lay down, listening to the other boy's steady heartbeat. He pressed his lips to his chest, grazing the shirt lovingly, and the heartbeat quickened slightly. Harry smiled to himself and looked at Draco, an indecipherable look shining in his eyes. Draco saw it and understood.

            "I'll drag you down into my madness," Harry told him quietly. "Because I am. I'm insane, and sooner or later I'll act on it. I'll kill someone with my wandless magic. We'll kill someone, soul-mate." Draco knew this. He knew it as surely as he believed that Harry was capable of doing magic without his wand.

"I know. I'll stay," he said softly. Harry considered him for a moment, eyes never wavering. Then, finally, he nodded slowly.

            "So be it."


	6. Epilogue: An Angel's Tears

Epilogue: An Angel's Tears

The wizarding world didn't mourn the deaths of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. No one knew they were soul-bound, and no one would have cared. No one knew them particularly well, especially in the final months before their deaths. No one cared. To wizards and witches around the world, theirs were just two more deaths, perhaps indirectly credited to the now-dead Dark Lord.

No one knew of their final moments together, moving in the ecstasy of consummated love. No one knew of how they looked at each other lovingly, longingly. Of how they sat together, naked, and polished the knives. Of how the two ornately decorated daggers slid into each of their hearts at the same time. Of how each smiled at his murderer as life faded away from them.

No one cared.

But somewhere, an angel wept for them.

_~fin_

Author's Notes

Dear Readers,

This story has been a wonderful experience for me, and I thank you for being there for me. Some of you have been reviewing this every single chapter, and that's really cheered me up heaps, especially since I haven't been getting very nice reviews on some of my other stuff. In any case, I do understand that this entire story was pretty confusing for some people, so this is a sort-of explanation.

I was just trying to get across the idea of Harry being soul-bonded to Draco, and being able to do magic without his wand. In the first book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, we do see some instance of Harry doing magic without a wand – indeed, before he even knew magic existed. He turned his teacher's wig blue, made the glass at the snake exhibit disappear, and so on. I capitalised on this idea – what if this wasn't a common talent for young wizards and witches to have? What if Harry was unique in this aspect? And what if he was bonded to someone – his soul-mate – who didn't have powers like his, but kept his powers from destroying him?

Harry's wandless abilities are immense, and such great power has the potential to destroy the body it is contained in. Tied to his soul-mate, the power is shared between two bodies, but can only be channelled by Harry. So – what if the soul-mate was someone most people wouldn't think of? His school enemy, Draco Malfoy? I'll admit, Severus Snape was one of the other candidates I was considering – but then I wanted Harry to be in love with his soul-mate. And anyone who knows me will know I love pairing up Harry and Draco together.

So that's how Harry and Draco became soul-mates. Harry's abilities were tempered by Draco – and subsequently, so was his insanity. I have come across many fanfics where Harry is thrown into Azkaban, but isn't affected by the Dementors – which doesn't seem too plausible to me, frankly. Hagrid was in there for just a little while, and he came back pale and shaking, refusing to talk about it. Sirius only kept his sanity through his frequent changes to a dog – but my Harry didn't have any Animagus capabilities. So he went insane, like everyone else in Azkaban.

And when he was let out – do you think he'd have gone crawling back to the same people who condemned him? No, of course not. Hence the distance he kept from Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione. Now, don't get me wrong – normally, I love these characters, but it just didn't work for them to be nice here. I just made them feel really guilty to compensate – but Harry was never going to trust them again. Instead, he turns his attention to Draco and Snape – the two people who really did try and help him. Why Snape?

I'm sure the simple statement didn't escape you – Lucius Malfoy, in this story, is a spy, working alongside Snape. That's why Draco had to pretend to hate Harry – but in truth, he was infatuated with the boy, ever since he saw him in Madam Malkin's. Unfortunately, Draco's never had that many friends before, and he set about trying to impress Harry in all the wrong ways. When Harry was sentenced to life in Azkaban, however, Draco confessed his true feelings to Snape, and enlisted him to find out the truth.

So, after two long years, ridiculed by everyone else, who believed Harry to be guilty, Snape and Draco finally found hard evidence that Pansy Parkinson had killed Minerva McGonagall – the crime for which Harry had been sentenced. Although it's not in the story, Parkinson killed herself – which was a good thing, because if she hadn't, Harry would probably have gone after her, and really become a murderer.

Harry may have hated Snape before, but he knows that the other man is part of the reason he was set free. Therefore, he trusts Snape almost as much as he trusts Draco. And he trusts Draco with his life, because he learnt the truth about himself in Azkaban. That he may not be purely human, accounting, therefore, for his wandless abilities.

Remember how Harry heard his parents every time the Dementors got near him? How the flashbacks got longer and longer – he only used to be able to hear screams, then he could hear his mother's voice, then his father's, and so on? So, if the timeframe he kept hearing went further back, maybe he heard his parents discussing how to keep him safe from Voldemort. Maybe they knew that Harry had the power to defeat him, maybe they talked about what he really was – not human. And if Harry heard that, and started experimenting with his powers while in prison…

Still, two years. It took a long time for Harry to find out about the true extent of his powers. Longer still to master them. And by then, Draco had found out the truth, and he was released without having to escape himself. Harry shows this to Draco one night, and proves that they are, indeed, soul-bonded.

So what does this mean, now that Harry is insane? Harry actually travelled astrally when Draco left. He entered Draco's body, riding home with him, while his physical body entered a kind of stupor. While Harry's spirit was in Draco's body, Draco could also do some wandless magic, which is how they convinced Lucius Malfoy of the truth. As Draco returns, he tells Harry to, "Go on," back into his own body, which Harry does. No one present really understands what just happened, though.

The boys know, however, that Harry's madness will soon consume them both. And that they will rampage, their powers out of control. _They_ will be out of control. And they would definitely kill a lot of people. They know this – and so they kill each other instead of waiting for it to happen.

And that, my dear readers, is the basic background of what happened to Harry and Draco. Sad, no? A tale of requited, yet doomed love. Harry and Draco pretty much slipped into obscurity the last few months of their lives, though, and they lived together in peace. So we can hope that they found some semblance of happiness with each other. We _know_ that they did, in their final hours together. And I expect that the angel who shed tears over them will guard them in heaven.

Sincerely,

.:Daelan:.

Jeez, this author's note is longer than any chapter in the actual story. O.o;;


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